


Dodging the dog

by FhimeChan



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cassandra the Duck, Ermes the Pigeon, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, HanniHolidays2017, Idiots in Love, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, New Year’s Resolution, Season 2 Canon Divergent AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FhimeChan/pseuds/FhimeChan
Summary: “Do you fantasize about killing me?”“Yes.”“Tell me. How would you do it?”“With my dogs.”AU where Will and Hannibal try to kill each other by proxy, but "proxy" means "deadly animals".





	Dodging the dog

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [Haveloc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haveloc/pseuds/Haveloc) for giving a first feedback, and thank you [@j9-j9](https://j9-j9.tumblr.com/) for spotting my grammar mistakes. If something wrong is still here, it’s totally my fault.  
> Written for #HanniHolidays2017, prompt “New Year’s Resolution”.  
> I took inspiration from [this](https://incorrecthanniballecterquotes.tumblr.com/post/166878369539/hannibal-i-could-kill-you-if-i-wanted-to-will) and [this](http://sofancydancy.tumblr.com/post/167359390952/hannibal-better-run-original-pic-post) tumblr posts.

Hannibal had spent the Christmas Holiday hunting for ingredients for his new year dinner party. He went to invite Will sure of his acceptance. Facts were on his side, after all. Last time Will had driven for hours just to make his excuses, and had left smelling of regret. 

Hannibal blinked in surprise at Will’s reaction. “You are not special,” Will snarled, with eyes still clouded by hallucinations, “Why do you think you are? Other human beings could kill me, too.” He narrowed his eyes and inclined his head. “So could a really dedicated duck.”

Hannibal kept his expression neutral. Will’s reasoning were more convoluted than usual. Maybe the encephalitis was slowing his mind more than he had anticipated. “Last time you said you couldn’t come because you had a date with the Chesapeake Ripper. I assumed the matter was settled now that we all know his identity.”

Only the bars between them stopped Will from flinging himself at Hannibal. He realized Will would not accept his invitation, and strolled out of the BSHCI. He would have to change the seating arrangements, and remove the fried brains from the menu.

❆❅❄

Few seconds to midnight, Hannibal raised his chalice in a toast. “To new years resolutions.”

The guests cheered and drank, hoping their mundane dreams would come true. Hannibal found himself desiring to have Will with him next year. He examined the thought. Will surely was remarkable, to reduce him to wishful thinking.

He started to plan.

Hannibal did not know that in the BSHCI, hearing the distant explosions of fireworks he could not see, Will was making similar arrangements. They did not extend as far as one year, though.

❆❅❄

The swimming pool was dimly lit in the late evening, and the sounds bounced between one wall to the other. The rhythmical splashing of the only customer resonated in the empty space. 

Hannibal was concentrating on keeping track of his speed, so he did not see Matthew Brown sneaking in and crouching next to the edge of the pool. He kept swimming unaware, while Matthew freed something in the water.

Hannibal had just reached the centre of the pool when he felt a piercing pain in his ankle. He twisted, leaving a strike of blood in the clean water and kicking whatever was touching his ankle. He hit something smooth and cold with his heel and surfaced to take a big gulp of air.

A stingray was speeding in the water, ready to flap out towards his face. He caught the barb before it sank into his eye, and held it away from himself. The stingray contorted and thrashed, and Hannibal felt the skin of his palms tearing. He could not let it go, or the animal would aim at his face again. It was difficult to stay afloat with both his hands full. He glanced around the room, looking for a weapon. He saw Matthew instead, dragging a big basin closer to the water. Small grey things were swimming inside.

Hannibal realized the danger when he recognized the twisted smile on Matthew’s face. It was the one he had often used to mock his victims. He tried to swim towards the edge of the pool, kicking in the middle of white foam and red drops. The stingray weighed him down, and Matthew had reached the water already...

Two gunshots echoed in the room, followed by the splash of Matthew’s lifeless body hitting the water. A moment later, there was the softer thud of the dead stingray sinking to the bottom of the pool. Hannibal floated to the edge, gripping it with hands slippery for the blood and the effort.

As Jack helped him out of the pool and examined his wounds, muttering something about psychopaths trying to drop piranhas in a public space, Hannibal smiled. 

It was time to break Will free from the hospital.

❆❅❄

When he visited Will to announce the judge had been killed by the Ripper, Hannibal did not try to hide his bandaged hands. Will’s gaze lingered on the white cloth, imagined it stained with red. He regretted not having seen the attack. 

He raised his head to meet Hannibal’s gaze. Hannibal’s eyes were creased with warmth around the corners. Hannibal said, “Do you want to touch them?”

Will nodded, then stepped closer to the bars. He gripped Hannibal’s right hand hard, sinking his nails into the bandage. He stared into Hannibal’s eyes, satisfied by Hannibal’s steady breathing, the stillness and warmth of his hands and the way his pupils dilated slightly. By the time the new orderly hurried to separate them, red spots had erupted where Will’s fingers had been. 

Hannibal radiated pride while Will was manhandled and handcuffed. When he walked away, he took care in lifting his sleeve to show off the marks. In spite of himself, Will smiled.

❆❅❄

Will’s house in Wolf Trap was cold, dusty and unbearably familiar, a memory from the life of someone too trusting to survive. The ghost of Hannibal lingered, rummaging between his belongings, touching his clothes, his lures, his books. Did he bury his nose in his cheap linens, chasing the sweet smell of encephalitis? Did he make a copy of the keys?

The voice in Will’s head, the one modelled after Hannibal, told him that he would consider it unspeakably rude getting inside his house uninvited. Will snorted at the irony of it, alone in the privacy of his kitchen. 

He put off washing the bed sheets for as long as he could.

❆❅❄

Hannibal parked the rented car in the middle of the forest, far enough from Will’s house not to be heard or seen. He had waited for a snow storm for additional coverage. He took a bundle of clothes out of the cage in the passenger’s seat, and unfolded the plain fabric. 

The head of his trained steamer duck, Cassandra, emerged. Hannibal took a moment to ruffle her feathers, admiring the polished and hard grey plumage. Then he settled her on the ground and gave her one last command, “Get him.”

He looked at the duck stumbling on the snow one more time, then drove back. He wanted to be at home for Will.

❆❅❄

Will was grading papers when the window broke in an explosion of splinters. A small animal appeared in a cloud of snow, something metallic shining on its head. Will blinked, then sprang in motion when the thing - a… duck? - pecked at the leg of his desk. It broke it with one swift movement, and used the small hooks mounted on its feet to climb the ruined furniture.

Will stepped away when the duck jumped from the higher position. It landed and tried to pummel him with its metallic-glinting knobs.

Some minutes of struggling followed, when Will tried to take hold of one part of the animal not covered in armor. The duck landed some vicious blows, and Will had scratches everywhere when he finally managed to clench its neck in his hand. He squeezed it with all his strength, while the duck pecked at his knuckles. After a small eternity the animal went limp in his hold.

It looked peaceful, almost cute, the graceful arch of his neck draped over Will’s arm. There was a small owl embossed on the animal’s helm. Will had a sudden vision of Hannibal engraving it, and let the duck go. 

It fell on the ground with a metallic clink, and Will hurried to find his dog’s transport cage before it woke up.

❆❅❄

Hannibal felt his cheeks stretching into a smile when Will appeared at his door, holding a cage with an injured but very alive Cassandra inside. He was so distracted he almost missed how Will’s eyes softened in answer. Almost.

He surveyed the damage, noticing how Will’s shirt was half-torn, the dishevelled hair, and the bloody knuckles. He felt a pang of pride for both Will and Cassandra, his deadly apprentices coming back to him after the fight.

Before Hannibal could move, Will got tired of his examination and stepped inside. He slammed the cage against Hannibal’s chest. “Take your damn bird.”

Hannibal took Will’s other hand instead and licked the fresh blood. Will blushed. 

“Would you join me for dinner? I fear I’m out of meat for the main curse, but I have some swan left.” Cassandra flapped his wings at the last word, and Hannibal smirked. “It’s her favourite.”

Will’s face twitched, but in the end he could not withhold a laugh. He followed Hannibal inside the house, fingers still laced together. 

❆❅❄

“Do you fantasize about killing me?”  
“Yes.”  
“Tell me. How would you do it?”  
“With my dogs.”

They both smiled.

❆❅❄

A shy sun peered between the clouds, melting the last pools of snow. Will smiled looking out of the window, and surprised both Beverly and himself by accepting her invitation to have lunch at the park. 

They sat on a bench, and Will unwrapped his sausage sandwich from the red and golden cloth. Beverly eyed it with a smirk. “So you and Hannibal made peace?”

Will smiled, thinking how yesterday he had broken into Hannibal’s house to kidnap Cass. He had found her cage next to the door and a packed lunch on the counter. “I think you can say so.”

She leaned in to steal a bite. She moaned. “I honestly don’t care if it’s human flesh, it’s delicious.”

Will’s facial muscles tried to smile, grimace, and blush at the same time. He was saved because a pigeon dropped something in his lap, then started to peck savagely at his curls. He spent some minutes trying to get the bird off, while Beverly was doubled over the bench laughing. It finally fled away after he yelled, “Go home, Ermes!”

Will blinked. He did not know if Hannibal was becoming predictable with his names or if he genuinely wanted Will to enjoy lunch. He looked at the paper the bird had left.

__

_Dinner Friday at 8 pm._

__

He defended the piece of paper from Beverly’s attempts to snatch it, and asked, “Did Hannibal offer to babysit your cat this weekend?”

Beverly stopped and looked at him. “Yes. Even if he did not say ‘babysit’. How did you know?”

Will grinned and did not answer. She kicked him in the shins in retaliation, but smiled.

❆❅❄

On Friday evening Will opened the door of Hannibal’s house with the keys he had stolen. Well, he had taken them from Hannibal’s office without a word. The note saying “for W.” and the dog-shaped keychain were coincidental. 

He sprayed Beverly’s furry red devil with water. The cat froze in the act of pouncing. It backed off instead, meowing in outrage. Hannibal called from the kitchen, “Hello, Will.”

He left the empty sprayer in the foyer with his jacket, and strolled to the source of the voice, smelling something roasted as he came closer. Hannibal was wearing his ridiculous oven mittens to extract a pan of something still recognizable as a rabbit. Or at least, someone Hannibal had rearranged to look like a rabbit. Will was touched.

He said, “Your attempts to murder me are getting predictable.”

“Are they?” Hannibal smiled at him. “Tell me, how does it make you feel?”

Will advanced towards him, and slipped the mittens off his hands. He touched the scars the stingray left, and Hannibal sighed and relaxed in his hold. Will traced the veins to Hannibal’s pulse, and closed his fingers around it. It was racing. They smiled at each other, and then, as naturally as breathing, Will kissed him.

❆❅❄

Will demanded they spend the Christmas Holidays at Wolf Trap. Hannibal obliged, but imposed Will’s attendance to his new year’s dinner party. Further negotiations would be surely required, but they decided to cease hostilities for Christmas Eve. 

Will could not stop staring at his small front room, his cheeks hurting from smiling too much. Cass was sleeping, curled with the pile of dogs, while Ermes was cooing at the top of the Christmas tree. He occasionally landed on Will’s head to give an affectionate peck. The smell of cinnamon cake lingered in the air, mixed with pine resin and the scent of freshly washed dogs.

Will was climbing the ladder to put fake snow on the Christmas tree, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. He knew Hannibal was melting some overpriced foreign chocolate to decorate the biscuits. Will laughed when the rusting noise of the whip was interrupted by small yelps. Buster was doing his best to make Hannibal trip. 

Will heard a metallic noise, then Hannibal’s soft steps getting near. He climbed down and turned in time to see Hannibal neatly waltzing around Buster, two mugs in his hands. It should be impossible to look graceful skirting the edge of tripping, but somehow he managed. 

Hannibal offered a mug to Will, saying, “Apple punch with cinnamon. A German recipe.”

Will took the mug and gestured towards the sofa, half occupied by the wrappings of the Christmas decorations. They squeezed in the little available space and sipped the punch. Buster gave up and marched into the kitchen, hoping for crumbs. Will leaned against Hannibal’s side and laid his head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth.

After a while, Hannibal broke the silence. “You know, my dear, last Christmas I swore to have you attending my new year’s party.”

Will grinned, hidden from Hannibal’s sight. “Don’t get too excited, I can still change my mind.” Buster came running from the kitchen, a long knife between his teeth, and charged. Hannibal caught it before it reached his ankles, and stared at the small dog. After a pause, he repeated, “My dear.” 

Buster sped towards the kitchen, and came back a moment later with another knife. Hannibal pulled it away again. He looked at Will with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, “I don’t really know if you’re trying to encourage or dissuade me from using pet names.”

“Your guess. You know the dogs will be present at your dinner party, right?” 

Hannibal’s eye twitched, probably envisioning the possible consequences of one mistake. “You have the most appalling sense of humor,  _ honey _.” 

Will started to laugh when Winston woke up suddenly and ran to the kitchen. A rare expression of pure horror flashed on Hannibal’s face. 

“You know,” he said, clutching at Hannibal between waves of laughter, “sometimes new year’s resolutions work too well.” He grinned, “I can’t wait to come to your dinner party.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :D  
> I wish all of you a happy new year!


End file.
